Coventry
by SisterFriend
Summary: It's World War Two and England has been bombed for months now.  It's taking it's toll on Arthur, but the biggest surprise isn't that he's being bombed; it's that someone knew.


**Hello everyone! *waves nervously* It's, ah, been a while, hm? ^_^""" Sorry about that...**

**This is based on the bombing of Coventry during WWII. We just learned about it in our history class, and it made me think of this. And kinda made me want to cry. TT_TT**

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England looked around him. He was with his country's generals and Mister Churchill, hidden away as they discussed what to do next. Germany and Italy had been sending troops to bomb England over and over. England was itching to retaliate, even though he was sore, as each bombing sent pain to his very core. He and the other allies had been too slow to respond already, and Poland, France, and many others had paid the price. It was time to fight back.

"What do you think, Arthur?" Churchill asked, turning to the nation.

England opened his mouth to respond, but stopped as a wrenching pain in his stomach knocked him to his knees. Everyone else in the room jumped at the nation's unexpected movement, and Churchill kneeled next to him. England gripped the man's shoulder tightly trying not to cry out. He realized the source of the pain quickly.

"Th-they're bombing Coventry..." England managed to gasp out, taking both hands and grasping the cloth over his stomach. The room felt like it was spinning as he felt each bomb drop. Drops of blood began to seep through his white shirt, and he coughed violently. The nation felt like he would go mad with every bombing raid that happened, as he felt the lives of his people wink out like candles in a storm.

One of the generals got on a phone, rapidly talking to dispatch troops to the city. There was silence once the phone was hung up and the general quietly said that backup would be there soon. England unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands, gasping at each movement as more blood came from the new wound in his stomach. Churchill quietly handed the nation a towel, which he pressed against his stomach. Gritting his teeth, he looked at his country's generals and prime minister. Although there were none in the room, flames were reflected England green eyes as he took in the sight.

Every man in the room was looking away. Even Churchill wasn't meeting the nation's eyes, guilt heavy on his face. England, half-drunk on pain, pieced it together slowly.

"You... Y-you knew..."

Churchill still refused to look at him. The nation took his bloodied hand and grabbed the prime minister's tie. The man looked at him reluctantly.

"How did you know?" England cried out, cringing as another bomb dropped and another group of lives disappeared.

"We cracked the German code..." England's eyes widened as the prime minister spoke. They'd been trying to crack Germany's code for months, and now they had. But it didn't make sense to not use that information now!

Seeing the question in the nation's burning eyes, Churchill continued. "We couldn't risk letting Hitler and Germany know that." The man set his jaw. "It was a necessary sacrifice."

"A n-necessary sacrifice?" England muttered. "They're dying, Churchill. So many people are dying!" The nation shuddered, blacking out as several bombs dropped at once. When his vision cleared, the generals were watching him with curiosity, as they often did when the nation reacted like this as a bombing occurred. Angry, in pain, and feeling like he was being ripped apart, England stood, stumbling out of the room. He had barely made it out into the hallway when he passed out completely.

Days later, England limped through the streets of what had once been Coventry. Keeping a tight arm around his rapidly healing – but still painful – abdomen, the nation stared blankly around him. Bodies were being lined up for identification; more and more were being found as the rubble was slowly cleared away.

England wondered in the back of his mind if this "necessary sacrifice" was worth it. So many unsuspecting civilians had died, when it could have been prevented. He stopped, leaning against a broken wall, bricks laying scattered about his feet.

He shuddered, bracing himself, as somewhere another bombing began.


End file.
